If the Cover Fits, Wear It
by maimayicumplz
Summary: Alternate to GG3.Follows the original synopsis.R&R.Currently being revamped.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Semantics, really.

On the last day of summer break, I could almost feel the mansion waking up around me, preparing for its sisters to come home. From the safety of my chair (those huge comfy armchairs that could easily fit two girls, a boy, and possibly Chuck Norris), I hear Mr. Mosckowitz squealing—eerily resembling the schoolgirl I'm supposed to act like—about his new clone to a very unimpressed, or possibly bored, Joe Solomon. Either way, his impassive face didn't change for the whole 5 minute (and 23 second) conversation.

It was the last day of summer break and I was tired of being locked up in this mansion, or more specifically this old room situated above the Hall of History. It wasn't exactly top-secret, considering maintenance had turned it into a storage room. Because of this, the old chairs they tossed in here were great to curl up in on a rainy day and just observe life move around you. And by "life moving around you" I mean it was a totally great vantage point to spy on the happenings going on just below. Granted the "happenings" actually meant the action of my mothers office and the accompanying hallway. Bear in mind "action of my mothers office" meant the suspicious visits of my teachers, and the occasional gifts they would bring by. Acknowledging that "occasional gifts" to spies were the manila folders, unmarked boxes, and coded messages that kept my curiosity up all night.

So when my mother stepped out of her office, looked straight at me and said loudly "Cammie, may I talk to you please?" I blushed, even though no one could see me, and booked it into her office.

"Hey Cam," she laughs, "you came down here faster than when I told you there was a Costco sized shipment of peanut M&M's coming in. You were falling all over yourself."

I could easily recall the frosty winter night of my first year at Gallagher. My trained memory didn't work much to travel back a few years—the hard part was the rush of emotions and memories that came with. It was a different time then, and we were different people. It was so soon after dad, and what I remembered most clearly about that time in my life was my mother—my strong, smart, beautiful mother—struggling to keep things together, to keep things running. I quickly reverted my mind back to the present, summoning the fond memories in my life, clinging to that happiness. So I smiled at my mother, and we briefly recounted a tale of arriving to a slightly undercooked pepperoni pizza instead. "At least I didn't burn it" I remember her mumbling.

My mother beckoned me inside, still smiling, and delivered the next bit of news so casually, I would have never guessed what I later knew, that there was more to this upcoming party from the start.

"Macey's people called and," I laugh and can't help interrupting.

"'Macey's people'? She has 'people'?" But my mother just ignores me and continues on like I'm invisible. An act I've gotten _very _used to.

"And she wants you to come down to Boston for one of her dads political events."

"Oh!"

"Is that alright?" my mother asks, and begins to go into details about the evenings plans.

But I'm not listening; I'm too excited now to listen to a word I tackle my mother in a hug, look up at her with wide eyes, and in a more controlled voice ask, "Really?"

"Well, I can understand your hesitation to leave your loving mother and beautiful school but you'll be back tomorrow so don't worry," my mother replies with a smile and glare of her own.

"Yay!," I exclaim again, "When can I leave?" feeling only slightly guilty for being so upbeat about leaving her. I mean come on, my mom's pretty awesome but I only get to see her a couple hours each day. The rest of that time is spent wandering the halls, both public and secret, and chatting aimlessly with teachers. Note to self: never offer to be a test subject for one of Dr. Fibs new experiments. Ow. Who knew combining anti-gravity and the new compact edition of rocket heels would be so deadly?

"A helicopter will pick you up in five. You'll be dropped off at one of the McHenry's private jets, it should take you to Boston in a little over an hour."

"Five minutes!" I demand, "I can't pack enough to satisfy Macey in five minutes!" Of course, I could pack my whole wardrobe and not satisfy Macey. Then again, I was in training to be a spy, and time crunches were something I'd have to get used to—Just part of the job.

"Oh, I forgot," I look at her curiously because spies never forget anything. It was a very unfamiliar phrase in my family, "Oh, I forgot." I studied her a little closer and was surprised to notice the bags under her eyes, the slightly smudged makeup and half-hearted attempt to look happy and presentable. My gaze turns worried and a little skeptical. She's definitely hiding something. Big, probably. I sigh. Not noticing my revelation (sloppy again, especially for an ex CIA operative) she continues, "she mentioned that she doesn't want you packing, just to come in something semi-formal for the day, and she has clothing for you for dinner and the event."

"Ugh," I groan, "she's probably going to put me in a neon green bikini with a hula skirt."

"Why would she do that?" my mom asks, her tone and voice evidently containing laughter. I glare.

"Well duh, for payback. She totally wants to get me for that time I convinced her they kill people who fail so they don't spread our secrets when they leave. I didn't think she'd believe me, but she actually studied twice as long every night, it was hilarious."

But my mother just laughs and tells me I need to leave. I kissed her cheek, and sprinted up the stairs to get changed.

A few minutes later I'm in a copter waving goodbye to my mother with just a toothbrush, my favourite lip gloss and a few spy essentials expertly hidden inside my purse. If I could go back in time, with the knowledge I had know, I would have looked at things differently. If it was still September, and I was still within the safe walls of the Academy, I would have studied my mother a little longer. I would have listened to Mr. Solomon's conversations a little closer, studied my schools secrets a little harder. But it was December, and I was in a Safe House in a foreign country, and every part of me knew it was too late, and a small part of me wondered whether it would have helped anyways.

I didn't think of any of those things right then though. Then all I could wonder was whether Macey would approve of my simple black flats, dark wash skinny jeans and a turquoise tee with a thick black belt wrapped around it. Half of which stolen from her closet. The Macey inside my head said 'Funky' and 'It brings out your eyes'. My plain blue eyes, they were darker than hers, more a light blueberry as opposed to her crystal orbs. It's not like I'll be seeing anyone I know, or could possibly start a relationship with. Not that I wanted a relationship. Or needed one. Then again, if I'm going, and the Secret Service is there, then maybe Zach would be there. Not that Zach had anything to do with the aforementioned thoughts on relationships.

Sigh. Zach. The object of my attention all summer (something I tried to convince myself was purely out of curiosity and suspicion). He probably only kissed me _because _he was leaving. A simple good-bye kiss. No commitments. Probably no big deal to him. But then again, he did pay more attention to me than anyone else during the exchange. And I had trusted him during our final. I mentally slapped myself mid-thought. I _couldn't_ be thinking about this. Boys were confusing. Boys were mysterious. And boys can break hearts. Especially Blackthorne Boys.

I couldn't afford another broken heart, not in Sublevel Two. Who knows what Solomon would throw at us (sometimes I doubted that even _he_ knew). I had to admit his hard and fast methods were quite effective, my spy skills were much better than before.

Maybe it was training, maybe it was instincts, but as the helicopter started to descend, some subconscious part of me rigged up for battle. I was going into foreign ground, without a sister by my side. New circumstances, new surroundings, new adventures. When I looked out the window, saw the Secret Service Agents waiting, and the inconspicuous black vehicle, I knew that any choices made my Sophomore year that may seem wrong now didn't matter anymore. If I had faith that my mistakes were part of a natural path towards success, then I would continue to learn and grow and be the best Gallagher Girl I could be.

Feeling like I could take on the world, I stepped off the helicopter, and came face to face with a _really_ cute guy.

My previous resolve disappeared as I stared into the face of an angel. Well, not angel. No angel wore crisp black suits and a Comms units and Secret Service regulation loafers. Insecurity began to build in my chest, replacing my earlier confidence, as I reminded myself that the Gallagher Girl curriculum had nothing to do with boys.

Well, Goddamnit.

**AN: Some of you may have already read this story, its Maysun Rain's former GG3, just redone after the release of the actual book. If you do recognize this chapter, skip to Chapter 19 and read the AN there.**

**Oh and all comments, critism, and ideas are welcome. Critism must be specific, no "You suck." Try, "You suck at keeping people in character." Because then I actually know what to fix. Im pretty much open to anything. THAT sounded sexual. Right. -Mayson**


	2. Chapter 2

"I am NOT wearing this!" I snapped.

"Yes, you are."

"No I am not." I summoned my inner Morgan and embodied my mother. "No amount of hallucinogenic chemicals will get me into this piece of cloth you're calling a dress." My voice rang out in the huge suite and Macey looked a little taken aback by the power it held. Standing my ground, she sighed and gave in, and I grinned in triumph.

"Well alright, I guess I can whip up something else," she rolled her eyes, grabbed my "dress" and strutted out of the room. 'Cause Macey don't walk, she struts. That girl will strut down the aisle to her own funeral. Once she was out of sight I breathed a sigh of relief and let the facade go. Girls who wore dresses like that hung out with boys who used way too much hair product. I had a brief flitting imagine of Zach in my mind, and wondered if he would have liked it.

"Bad Cammie," I mumbled and slapped myself on the arm, just as my roommate walked back in. She eyed me over her glasses as if I were insane, which, given my recent behavior, wasn't such a venture (Did I mention Macey got glasses? Despite her 20/20 vision, her stylist insists they make her look smart and sophisticated—like the perfect campaign daughter.)

"You feeling alright Cam? You know what? Don't answer that, I understand its hard to act normal in my presence." another piece of Macey's cover fell into place, and judging by the eye rolling going on through the Secret Service Agents lining the walls, it's one they were used to. "Here's your new dress, you like? Or are you going to start kicking things like a three year old again?" I bit my lip, silently admitting it was a bit of an irrational response, more suited to Bex than myself.

"Sorry," I mumbled examining the new dress from head to toe, and then happily sucking in air. Unlike the last all black, skimpy, dominatrix costume (complete with corset and a lace up back), this new one was perfect. Although it was undoubtedly by another top-name designer, like everything Macey owned, this was light pink silk covered in white lace with a thick pink matching band under the bust (in which I lack...). Other than that, it was the perfect dress for me. Innocent and sweet, capable of blending into anywhere, this dress was made for a Chameleon.

I sighed. "Thank you, Macey. Now _this_, is a dress!" I hugged harder than probably wise, considering the Secret Service agents that line the walls looked like they were contemplating prying me off of her.

"Yeah, yeah what-evs, time to get ready!" Macey only looked slightly disappointed I wouldn't wear the catwoman suit and rebel against her parents for her.

"Kay, am I showering in here?" looking around I can't help but wonder if the agents will follow us there too. Seriously, I'm not even the one in danger and they're watching me like a hawk. Maybe they think I'm going to pull out a machine gun and start hammering up the place. Just to test my case I scream a battle cry and tackle Macey, almost as if I want a piggy-back ride. She doesn't fall down but laughs, apparently guessing what I'm doing. In seconds (I could have totally killed her in that time, by the way) the agents were off the wall and tackling me. I was harshly pinned to the floor, orders were being shouted simultaneously and it was hard to distinguish what was being said.

"Keep a hold on the girl!"

"Grab Peacock!"

"Check her for weapons!"

"Secure the perimeter!"

Meanwhile Macey and I burst into a fit of laughter, and not the quiet kind either. The roll-around-on-the-floor and laugh-until-juice-comes-out-of-your-nose kind of thing you don't want any guy to see. So that's exactly what happened. Not too mention the room full of Secret Service men, no, another one. From outside my own little world I hear the one thing that made me, Cameron Morgan, freeze.

"Hey, Gallagher Girl."

Have you ever pinched yourself because you thought you were dreaming? Slapped yourself across the face? Bang your head on the wall a couple times? But you just won't wake up?

"Aww, I missed you too!" Zach cooed sarcastically, laughing at me hurting myself. But for a second I swear I see a flash of hurt in those dead sexy eyes. Then again, I was a girl, and it was easy to imagine those things, especially when the boy in question was the cutest, most mysterious operative in training you knew. Wha-_SLAP!_ Bad Cammie. You can _not_ be thinking this!

" Get him OUT of here!" I roar, now really thrashing the secret service men off of me. They're shocked at my strength but even if I am free it still won't get _Him _away. I look pleadingly at Macey-or Peacock, briefly distracted by all of the possibilities for teasing that nickname left.

"You heard the girl, get the scum out," she smiled sympathetically, but sarcastically at me, and I realized just how different Macey was from the girl who informed us horses make great glue that first day. Then they finally, _finally_ get _Him_ out mumbling questions about how he got in here in the first place. I mean seriously, I'm only in a robe! _I can't wait to see him later_ (sarcasm... I think...) he'll have some snappy line like 'Your face was as red as your dress, remember the one?' add a smirk and I'm gone.

-(place one of those lines here)-

"Bonjour Mademoiselle, as tu un bon jour?" asked a random women.

"Oui? Er... c'etait bon?" I say it like I haven't been speaking French for over a decade, and if she really wanted to know, my day wasn't that good. I ignored her laughing at me, random woman, and scanned the room. Now I know what you're thinking, paranoid right? But spies aren't paranoid, they're cautious. I can't spot he-who's-name-we-do-not-speak, but over by the fountain, there. I see another familiar face; the British Bombshell will explode when she hears this. There's Grant - I saw Zach earlier - and over there. That guy was a junior last year. So was that one. What are the Blackthorne Boys doing at the Democratic National Convention?

"Cammie!" I turned around to see Macey waving me over to four very official looking guys. I walked toward them, both the spy and the girl in me curious. Smiling politely to the other ball guests, I tried to concentrate on the moment, on my sister who needed me, and not the endless amount of things I did not know.

"Yes Macey? Who's this?" I notice we're only interacting with the one man, the others who appeared to be his superiors only looked mildly interested.

"Mr. Masimo," I cock an eyebrow, "CIA," she whispers. I study the man closer and Joe Solomon's wise words ring out in my head. He's about 6, 7' with dirty blond hair and green-blue eyes that remind me of the ocean. I'm sure if he wasn't in a tuxedo he'd resemble an all-American farm boy like the ones in Nebraska. He hadn't even styled his hair for the night, giving off a cute, naïve impression, of one who didn't belong, and wasn't used to a tie or jacket.

"Pleasure," I say, smiling widely the way my mom taught me and shaking his hand.

"The same to you Miss...," he trails off, letting the question linger. He looked like he was barely older than me, and I'd bet the clothing on my back (cheesy old people expression, but come on, I had spent the whole summer with Grandpa Morgan) he just graduated from Blackthorne last summer. Probably hadn't even been on a mission yet. I smirked and relaxed, feeling more like equals.

"Morgan, Cameron Morgan" I say Bond-Style. His eyes visibly widen and he lets go of my hand as if he's been shocked. The other three associates who had been staring off into space slowly curl their heads towards me. It unnerved me to say the least, I preferred to just go by Cammie. But alas, the reputation my parents had left me wasn't exactly unheard of. I pretended not to notice and picked idly at invisible lint on my dress and swirled my drink around in my glass, making sure not to look in their eyes. What would I find? I wasn't sure. But I knew I wouldn't like it.

"And you are?" I was surprised at how calm my voice was, how controlled the tone was, so unlike the mixed emotions swirling around my head right then. The men step up, pulling rank, putting Masimo in the rear. The man who appears to be in charge offers me his wrinkled hand. I take it gingerly along with the others who appear to be closer to my mothers age.

"Micheal Chivington. Board Director of The Department of Cover and Concealment, CIA." the leader states rather proudly. Now it was my turn to widen my eyes. That's a big position, the Board of Directors is made up of the Director of each department. Operative Development and Human Intelligence, Sabotage and Seemingly Accidental Explosions, etc. The only person above this guy was the Deputy Director of the CIA and the Chief of the CIA, making him a very, _very _powerful man. The non-alcoholic champagne gets caught in my airways, and I momentarily choke before clutching my pearls, clearing my throat, and smiling.

"Well its an honour to meet you sir!"

"My associates here," he waves a little dramatically to the two men behind him, "are field agents and recruitment officers," I remember immediately puffing up and trying to look impressive, and feeling very silly about it afterwards.

"Ah, I see," I reply calmy, though I was totally _not._ "now are you folks here for business or pleasure" My face splits in a grin, that I hope doesn't look as fake as it feels. But they aren't watching, they're saying their goodbyes to Macey. I barely notice but wave, and let Macey be dragged away to meet some more political people.

-(place another line here)-

_"So you're a friend of Peacock's?"_

"Yep, we room together back at the Academy. She was...hmm, not very nice when she first came here. But she's just another sister now" they look shocked, which immediately sets off warning bells.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, when I really wanted to say 'What did I do' or, 'This conversation isn't going to effect my future is it?'

"The Senators daughter is a Gallagher Girl?" they still look aghast but I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Just for a moment there I was so worried I did something wrong that I actually stopped thinking about Zach for a second. Just a small tiny second, but I'm proud nonetheless. Now his stupid heart-wrenching I-know-something-you-don't-know smile is plastered underneath my eyelids, _again_. Bad Cammie. At least I refrained from hitting myself in front of the company this time.

"Yeah she is, but hey her dad doesn't know just how exceptional we are, and we plan on keeping it that way." they nod and before I can say anything else Macey is dragging me off somewhere. I wave goodbye and mumble an 'It was nice meeting you' then even more quietly I hiss in Maceys ear "An honor!"

I glare at her and she shrugs mumbling about photos with the media on the roof, not leaving me alone with that boy etc. [referring of course to her male counterpart, Preston Winter's, Governor Winters son, and her "boyfriend"]. I sigh and allow myself to be dragged along. Just as the elevator doors are closing I catch a glimpse of a tuxedoed man.

He looked just like a hundred others I'd seen tonight, but this black tuxedo clearly covered a chiseled chest, a face sculpted from my dreams and eyes you can get lost in forever.

"Zach," I whisper to Macey, "Zach's here."

She raises her eyebrows at me, looking like the sassy and witty Macey I knew for the first time since we entered the hotel. "Here, like right now? I didn't see him, and I was looking out there too. Are you sure this isn't an effect of being locked in a mansion by yourself for weeks?"

"Although I did have nothing to do, and my thoughts did frequently stray towards the boy who gave me a Hollywood goodbye, I can assure you. It was him."

"So you saw him? Zach Goode, he's here?"

"Yep."

"Damn. How come I didn't notice him? I can do this stuff too right?" all of the nerves Macey had become so good at hiding come out in that question. The question if she had come far enough. She was accepted, but was she good enough to stay?

"Yes, of course" I rushed to say, "You can Macey, you're good, it's just...me."

_"Is it a pavement artist thing?" _

_"No," I said. "It's a girl thing."_

The atmosphere pulsed and thickened for a second, then dissolved as Macey giggled, and turned to me, smiling her most beautiful, clever, teasing smile.

"Are you implying I'm a man?"

**AN: Ohh, Zach in the second chapter? And we'll be seeing more of him in the next? Without extreme cheesiness/unrealistic encounters? *Pats back* :P **

**OH yeah and, feel free to drop me a line! **


	3. Chapter 3

"Shh!" I hissed, but added a giggle so she knew I was joking. Mace and I were hiding from the big bad guys in black suits. Okay, so technically they were the good guys, but we were teenagers, and where's the fun in following the rules _all _the time? Saying that might explain why we squished ourselves into the trunk at the end of Macey's bed and hid until they left the suite. Better than we would have to later, because at the time, it still seemed sensible. After checking if the coast was clear (using much more covert techniques than anyone would expect) we stumbled out of the trunk and stretched our legs out. I turned to Macey and laughed at the same time she did.

"What?" we both said in sync. We laughed again, pleased with our camaraderie and then she said,

"Seriously, what?" I grinned

"Your hair looks like you just had... well, took your relationship with Preston to the next level."

A year ago a boy was as foreign to me as the moon (which may seem like an extreme metaphor, but we totally covered everywhere else in COW) but the thought had softly slipped out, so like any good spy, I went went along with it and winked at her. She made a face (that would later show in the wrinkles her mother constantly warned her about) and muttered 'Ew'. I didn't know what problem she had with him, because really he was kinda cute, in a lost puppy way. Lost _nerdy_ puppy. Telling her so however, proved harder than the thought itself.

"Cute!" she shrieked in outrage,"Ugh, then _you _fake date him. I would hook you two up but my parents would kill me"

"Right," I snorted,"Macey, thanks but I dont think he'd be into _me_ anyways." when she gives me that look that clearly says shes going to go on a rant about my self-esteem, I quickly continued, "He's already fallen too far in love with you. Besides, he's totally unsuitable, do we want to go down the same road with Josh again? I'm finally over him, and I'm not going back," I stated the last part firmly.

"Oh really, Cam?" she grinned an evil, malicious smile, and looked at something over my head as she said, "You've moved on haven't you?" A bad feeling was settling in my stomach, "Well then, I suppose I'll just go fix my hair and makeup in the other room and meet you on the roof,"she smirked at me as she glided by. I was confused, then my sixth sense kicked in and I spun around in time to see Zach motioning impatiently for Macey to get out of the door. My lips parted slightly as he strode forward and I tried damn hard to close them.

"Long time no see, Gallagher Girl," he smirked and that didn't help with the whole Cammie-get-your-foot-out-of-your-mouth thing.

"Oh hi Zach!" Oh gosh that's nerdy, why can't I be cool? "I mean hey… you..." I shut up before I could make more of a fool of myself, settling into the fact that I would never be a smooth talker. I took a deep breath and attempted to continue before he cut me off.

"Flustered?" I glared haughtily and forcibly regained my composure

"You should leave Zach, I don't know why you're here but I have a feeling you aren't supposed to be in girls rooms...Especially mine."

"I'm touched," he says, putting his hand to his heart, "that you care so much." I stiffened in response,watching his every move carefully, waiting. We continued our silent staring match for another minute, both of us sizing one another up, when finally, he made his move. He stepped forward quickly, and maybe it was a natural reaction, but I immediately took a quick one back.

"Thats not what I meant," I said quickly. He smiled, as if I had said something cute, and took another step forward, while I moved even further back.

"I know," he replies, and I felt stupid for having said it. Of course he knew—he always knew. "I have to say I've seen you looking much worse than tonight, Gallagher Girl." his eyes graze up and down my body and I figure I'll be affecting a natural blush the rest of the night. "But if we're being honest, I would have preferred the first dress, you look good in black." he grinned, anticipating my reaction.

"Ugh!" The strangled groan that escapes my mouth is anything but attractive and no where near ladylike. I threw my hands up in the air in defeat, "How do you always know all of this!" he opens his mouth but for the first time that night I feel in control and _I _ cut _him_ off, "Yeah yeah, _spy__._" He didn't let me forget it.

"Come on Gallagher Girl, calm down," he takes another two steps forward so hes only a foot in front of me. I swallow but don't move back and try to convince myself that its because the wall is close.

"And lose the honest bullshit." I added, and saw a flash of true surprise in his eyes. "Besides, knowing Top Secret information equals spy, watching girls get dressed is called Peeping Tom. There's a difference." The more words that tumble out, the better I feel. The brief elation fades because this all only seems to please Zach more. Seeing my face, he apparently decided it was time to stop with the mocking.

"Cam," I note the lack of nickname. Refuse to take another step back. The wall is close. So close. "Stop freaking out Cammie, I won't kill you. Didn't you miss me?" He mock pouted and I reluctantly felt my lips curl upwards into something moderately resembling a smile.

"Fine. I'll forgive you Zach, if you answer this. Why are you here?"

He took another step forward, placing himself right in front of me. Instead of answering my question, he asked one of his own. "Hey, Gallagher Girl, wanna see something Jimmy would never do?"

I panicked a bit, already running through dozens of scenarios in my head. What could he possibly have in mind? Something spy-like obviously, tackle me? Blow something up? Pin me on the floor? Before my mind could explode in a mix confusion (both estrogen and spy related), the emotion changed. The scene changed.

His lips, suddenly crushed against mine. A new emotion surged within me, unidentifiable in the moment. Whatever it was, it made me gasp, still pressed against his mouth. But he didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. My eyes closed without my permission, as my body ignored my mind and I melted into the kiss, just as he pushed me harder against the wall. So hard in fact I heard a bump, then suddenly something hit me on the head.

Zach is ripped from me and our eyes have a millisecond to meet before a painting crashes over our heads. We freeze, brown meeting blue for a few silent seconds as both of our heads stick out of the canvas that rested around our necks. All is silent for a moment before I burst out laughing, Zach soon following. We just stood there for a moment, lost in our laughter, clutching each other, and I didn't ever want to stop. Before that stupid mental clock dings and an image of Macey, my best friend and sister, all alone on the roof, involuntarily enters my mind.

"I have to go meet Macey." I murmur, as I try to extradite myself from the painting as gracefully as possible.

A few pregnant moments passed between us. There was me standing by the door, nervously twisting the knob. Him, still by the wall, staring at me with that deep, signature intense look he seemed to always dote while in my company. Someone passed by outside, pushing a cart, and the loud bumping broke our trance. I twisted the knob, opened the door, and before we had to part ways again, looked back.

"I guess I'll see you around?" I wasn't asking for much. Nothing he couldn't give me. Nevertheless, I tried not to look too hopeful, tried to keep my guard up, but judging by the smirk now twisting his lips, I failed. And this gorgeous, mysterious, confusing boy spy walks up to me, glances around, then leans down to whisper in my ear,

"Don't worry hon," HON? Really? "we'll have more time to catch up later." and with that cryptic message and a wink, he brushed briskly past me and walked down the hallway, disappearing at the end of it in total Zach style. And I wouldn't have changed it for the world.

By the time I got to the roof of the hotel I hadn't seen one member of the Secret Service. Besides for a couple of hotel staff I hadn't seen much of anyone really. Stomach still fluttering from Zachary Goode, I didn't pay as much attention to my surroundings as usual, and I would pay for it later. When I opened the door to the rood, it was almost comforting to find Macey tapping one foot impatiently on the floor. Familiar. Even though we were in Boston, it was a cool end of the summer night, with a small breeze and a starless sky.

"Where _is _everyone?" she looked around, seemingly bewildered.

"I don't know, you've been here longer than me," I looked around too and there was literally nobody, not one person, on the whole roof. I spotted the helicopter in the corner just as a pretty large news crew of all men came running out of it.

"There Macey, you're so oblivious." I rolled my eyes at her and tried to distinguish the sign on the side of the copter.

"Oh, I thought that was empty. It's been here the whole time," she shrugs and puts on her dazzling smile. Just as I'm about to join her I realize the sign isn't in English and my gaze snaps back to the men who are only 20 yards ahead of us. The uneasy feeling in my abdomen heightens, and every cell in my body knew something was up with these reporters.

They weren't carrying cameras.

They weren't dressed like the media.

And most of all, they didn't look friendly.

My hand was in Macey's in an instant, hauling her towards the door, towards safety, but they were already too close. The Art Of War states that it is key to always have the higher ground. That would corner us and put us in a vulnerable, defensive position, and the best defense is a good offence. I had just enough time to warn Macey and take a offensive stance before I was jumped by 4 men in ski masks and black attire. I was surrounded, the dark sky omitted by the dark bodies circling me like prey. The wide, beautiful, clear sky above is ominous and threatening now.

The adrenaline kicked in, just as two of them launched themselves at me. My _Buffy __t__he Vampire Slayer _technique that met their faces knocked them out instantly. The next two were smarter, and didn't just fling themselves at me. They were just as tough, but they used force _and _technique when fighting. As I hesitated and wondered if this is a test, if this was really going on, or if I'm still in a post-Zach dream state, the man of my right kicked the back of my knees, and I fell painfully to the floor. The one behind me grabs my hands, ripping them and the attached arms behind my back in but one of his, leaving the other free to pull my head back by my hair. That wasn't a skilled maneuver, it didn't really restrain me at all. It was more out of a girl-fight move, loaded with hormones and history.

Gasping in pain, I realized what I was about to do was gonna hurt like hell. Sharply, I swung head forward into the other mans kneecap, and the crack I hear is almost as loud as the buzzing in my head. Shattered, he fell to the floor and howled. This caused the one behind me to get mad, and he lost the sharp edge he had before, his passion overwhelming his precision.

He spun me around and attempted to sock me in the nose, but I ducked my now unrestrained head. From this angle I could easily shoot my legs up, and try to crush his ribs. I missed, and in that second I was sure my time was up, sure I missed my only second of surprise. Then I listened closer, heard his breathing, much harder than my own, and in hitting his stomach, he was trying not to barf. My disgust of being vomited on sent another surge of adrenaline through my body, and I used those chemicals, that resource, to shoot to my feet and punch his throat. Down.

I felt no victory when he fell, only dread. We were outnumbered, outsized, and these weren't our classmates we were dealing with. They weren't even stupid henchmen. They were good, and I knew our offensive stance had to change. That when it came down to fight vs. flight, ignoring my instincts was the most idiotic thing I could do. There would be no more fighting for the Chameleon tonight.

With one glance towards Macey I realized she was more overpowered than I had been, and more vulnerable. 5 were on her, literally ON her, but they seemed to be more incapacitating than killing. My mind quickly evaluated the situation. Macey was captured, I was free, and the sound of helicopter blades starting up could be heard clearly over the fight.

"No!" The blades were spinning faster and faster, and I knew that in the next few moments, my actions had to match their speed.

"No." This time it was more of a command than an exclamation. Macey looked as if she was about to pass out but was still struggling. My scream seemed to wake her, and as I surged toward them she was landing half of them flat on their faces. There was no time for skilled maneuvers now, this was a full on kidnapping attempt, currently in progress, and I knew we had to get out of here. I kicked one of the men where it hurts, crouched defensively in front of Macey, and catalogued the second man pulling out a gun. It was one-on-one now, but he was armed, and I wasn't.

"NO!" Only afterwards did I realize that it wasn't me who had shouted it, as a movement from my left caught my eye. A man was springing out of a I-have-no-worries-in-the-world lean on the rail and slyly advancing towards us.

"We need her alive!" People could get so involved in politics it amazed me. They hated Senator McHenry so much they would even kidnap his daughter. No matter how unsettling that thought was, right now I was grateful that they intended no immediate harm on my friend. I used my immediate attackers distraction to my advantage and kicked the gun out of his hand as he punched me in the stomach. I struggled and snap kicked his neck, ignoring the sound of something cracking. Dwelling on the fact that I probably just killed someone was for later, right now I had to worry about making that later happen.

I spun to face the only remaining man on the roof, as he slowly removed a gun from his coat and pointed it at me. I'd imagined about these climatic moments my whole life, the intense scenes out of a Bond movie. Macey lay broken and unconcious a few meters to the side. Floors below, a lifetime away, people danced and celebrated her fathers nomination for Vice President. Trash blew in the wind, rustling my dress, and the mans hair. Now more than anytime in my life, I wanted to be invisible.

"Very good Miss. _Morgan _" he broke the silence first and I couldn't distinguish his accent, if he had one at all. I didn't let him distract me, even to the fact he somehow knew my name and the way he emphasized it.

I was clueless, lost in this world I'd been trained for. No one had talked about armed stand offs. A wise man once said "In this business, if you need a gun, then it's probably too late for one to do any good." So basically, I had half a clue to what I was doing. All I knew, was that I was protecting myself, protecting my friend, and protecting my country. I had to somehow find a way past this man, and off this roof.

He continued on, "Now I'm an old fashioned kinda guy, so we could do this like we used to. No tricks, no games, just us." That was stupid, because ever since I could remember our whole world was based on tricks and games, deceiving, lying. Anything but the truth, nothing is as it seems. The Man, dressed in simple black slats, work boots, and a leather jacket smiled and kept chatting.

"A shoot off, Cammie. I don't want your pride hurt, and I know you won't go down without a fight."

I raised my eyebrows, stumped, but still looking for a way out. "I'm un-armed." I stated

He smiled again, and did something so astonishing, I gaped like a moron for a full 20 seconds. Which, in case you didn't know, is a lot longer than you think.

He pulled out another hand gun from his pants, and slowly leaned down and placed it on the floor, before straightening and slowly kicking it to me. The sound of metal screeching across concrete reverberated through the open space.

I stopped it with my foot, still gaping, trying to find the hole in this plan.

"Well come on, Cammie, pick it up. I assume you know how to use one?"

Slowly, I bent down and picked the gun up, straightening quickly, as if he would have shot my head while it was down. He smiled again, amused, and unless I was mistaken, I saw something familiar in it.

I held it in my hands, rolling it around, checking for authenticity. The man smirked, eyes flashing with amusement. I checked the cartridge—loaded. Gulping, I held the gun up, and stared into the mans deep brown eyes.

"What's the catch?" I snapped.

"No catch, Cammie. A simple shoot-out. You know how these old things work? I love old things. They, mmm, catch my interest." His lips curled, and my eyes narrowed.

Even as my mind is coming up with all the ways this "deal" could be betrayed. The gun could be broken…he could just be stalling…his friends could be waiting around the corner… Still. No matter how hard I thought, I realized with a dull hopeless thud, that I didn't have a choice, and that this was my best way out.

"Deal." I replied, trying for confidence.

"One, we've already got our guns presented, on two cock and and three fire." I nod.

"One," he smiles

"Two,"

I gasp, as the clear sound of a shot being fired bangs off into the night...

**AN: Feedback?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Cammie POV**

Oh. My. Gosh.

I just killed someone.

I couldn't wrap my head around it He was one of the bad guys, but all I could feel was dread. _He could have had a family—a wife, a little girl. _A voice whispered in my head, incessant in its torment of my mind. A voice I very much tried to ignore because crying would do me no good now. I was brought out of my thoughts by a strangled moan coming from behind me.

"Macey!" I gasped, instantly feeling guilty I had forgotten about her. I ran to her side and started checking for injuries. Her spine seemed to be intact, so I half-carried, half-dragged her towards the door, making sure the path there was clear. There were still a few men lying around on the floor, and I wasn't sure why. There were less than before, so I could only assume some had retreated, but to leave your own behind?

Bracing myself, I turned around.

The man lay bleeding on the floor, still. The helicopter was loud, but I only half recognized the sound, because for the first time that night, my mind had gone quiet.

The helicopter wasn't alone. Others had joined it—news helicopters. Channel 4, Fox, MSNBC, all of them. In that moment I could see it, really imagine it. After almost two centuries, was our cover blown? Headlines flashed in my mind, each more terrifying than the next, and I knew it was time to get off that roof—and out of the public eye.

I got to the door just as one of the men started to stir. Glancing down, I realized Macey was completely out, and grimacing, I quickened our pace inside. He blinked up at me, crying "Hey!" just as the door closed. I ran around the corner, already screaming for help, feeling the fatigue of the nights actions beginning to weigh down, when he shot. It echoed throughout the small room, and I swear I heard the metal ricocheting off the walls. I didn't know where he hit, but thankfully, it wasn't us, so I kept moving.

My head was pounding, and supporting myself was a task, let alone my friend. I almost collapsed in relief when I saw the army of men in black coming towards us.

Chaos followed, and not the organized kind either. Macey was being strapped to a stretcher and I finally allowed my thoughts to wander. Who was that man? Why did he want Macey? How did he know my name? Why were the Blackthorne boys at the convention? What language was the symbol in? Was Macey going to be okay? That one I could answer, she wasn't that badly hurt. A lot of pain yes, but nothing fatal. There was something bugging me though and I couldn't figure out what it was. What was I not remembering?

The more my mind reeled, the more I felt it shutting down, and finally, exhausted, I passed out.

I woke up later, to find myself in a helicopter, bandaged and laying on a table. I was, however, unrestrained, so I sat up and silently surveyed my surroundings for a few minutes.

The helicopter was American, and full of officials, that much I could ascertain. I still didn't know which agency with which I was riding—until I recognized one of the occupants.

"Oh, hi Mr. Massimo," he looked around as if to see who was paying attention to our conversation and though everyone could here us none of them appeared as if they cared.

"You can just call me Mass, Cammie"

"I _knew _that was a first name" I smiled at him, wondering how gruesome I looked.

"Italian?" He nodded. He was watching me carefully and he looked like he was debating whether or not saying something.

"What is it you wanted to say?" he looked surprised and I rolled my eyes, feeling relieved to concentrate on something else then my swirling emotions and chaotic mind. "You came over here for a reason and your body language, not to mention the look on your face, tells me you're debating something," I smiled at his dumbfounded look. Yeah, 1-Cammie, 0-Mass.

"Well, I'm being assigned to this project so I thought I could get to know you since we'll likely be seeing quite a lot of each other," I blinked in surprise and stuttered for a second before responding.

"Erm, alright then" _Get to know each other? _That rung oddly in my head.

"Let the interrogation start, anything you want." I chuckled, knowing he'd regret that.

"How long have you been with the CIA?" I made sure to watch his eyes and body language to try to tell if he was lying.

"I just graduated from Blackthorne in June," I smirked, knowing I'd guessed right.

"Family?" I tried not to wince at my own words.

"Two brothers and two sisters." _Italians. _I smiled internally, slightly amused, slightly jealous.

"Jeesh. Do you all get along?"

"Yeah," he smiled fondly, lost in his own memories, "Although we don't see each other much, everything's nice and balanced when we do. My brother and I are Mommas' boys, but my sisters are total Daddies girls." I grimaced, as my heart joined my body in aching. Before he caught my look, I changed the topic.

"What do you do at the CIA?"

"I work in Cover and Concealment department."

"So that dude was your boss?" He laughed loudly, probably at me referring to such a powerful man as a 'dude'.

"Yep," It seemed we had a casual atmosphere going here, which was usually so rare with these people. Nevertheless, I welcomed it. Idle conversation was really what I needed at this point.

"Been on any field missions yet?"

"No but I have a feeling I'm about to be," he winked and I chuckled. He was pretty fun to hang out with seeing as I was only two years younger than him.

"Do you specialize in anything?"

"I'm a Pavement Artist."

"Ditto!" I cried, pleased with finding another person like me, although he didn't look nearly as plain, he was actually kind of cute. "My code name is Chameleon."

"I've heard," he said smiling "a good one at that. We'll have to see who's better sometime," he grinned.

"Oh you are so on!" I matched his anticipated smile. Talking to him was so easy; it confused me further, I usually didn't associate such comfortable emotions with Blackthorne Boys.

"Hey, Mass?" I said, my voice coming out softer than before.

"Yeah?" He replied, in the same undertone.

"Why were you hesitant to, well, get to know me?" I murmured, genuinely curious.

There was a pregnant pause before he replied. "Well, I was just a bit nervous—I wasn't sure it would be…appropriate." He looked up at me shyly.

I flushed, but still managed to murmur, "You didn't have to be."

We didn't get to continue our conversation however, just then we were informed we were going to repel down to the top of the train station that had an elevator to Langley. I was in a dress! I whispered that to Mass and he actually laughed. I hit him hard in the ribs.

"Ow," he muttered, "well then in that case, I guess I'll just have to go before you to see the show,"

He smiled. I gaped, but quickly shook it off, knowing that I should be worrying about the place I was going to and not how I was getting there. Langley wasn't exactly Chuckey Cheeses.

**AN: I got you guys pretty good eh? Sorry about that...well not really, I quite enjoyed it. Perhaps I shall do it again, REVIEW-A little birdie (or my shrink) told me this helps but the message is clear anyhow REVIEW! Please. BTW, Sorry for the filler chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Blah. Do I really need to bother, I'm tired. **

**For a note, just to say I didn't really like this chapter. But eh, what can ya do?**

Four hours. I was debriefed for four hours.

In reality, I was debriefed for less than one, but I had to sit there, before and after, creating a combined time of four hours. Held in a cold, impersonal room that reminded me very much of Sublevel 1, my only company the two creepy old men talking to me. Talking, i.e. _interrogating. _They made me seem like the bad guy, the traitor. They remained unconcerned and unbothered by my constant stream of questions and demands. I wanted to see Macey, my mother, any face I could trust. Mostly, I wanted to know what had happened on the roof. But really, that's all they wanted to know too. So the interrogation went on.

When it was finally over I was informed that Macey was still in the medical wing. I asked to see her but was vehemently denied, and finally locked in a room with some Solomon-like drool-worthy guy who appeared highly professional.

"Hi!" I said eagerly, sticking my hand out, "I'm Cammie, well Cameron Morgan, but you can call me Cammie," I smiled at him but he merely nodded his head once in acknowledgement. "And you are, Sir?" I put myself directly in his path of sight.

"Robert Gates," that was all.

Well, check verbally charming my way out of here to off the list. Let's use a different tactic.

"Is there a bathroom I could use?" he nodded his head toward a door I hadn't noticed before. I sighed.

"Could I use a phone to call my mom please?" No matter how well my manners, this man didn't seem to care if I had said a million pleases, it was clear he wasn't budging. Nevertheless, I continued on, having nothing else to do then refute each denial.

"I'm sorry Miss Morgan but I wasn't given permission to let you do that."

"She really won't be happy if I don't call. I'll even let you dial; her cell number is still in the system from when she worked here. Or you could even call the headmistress line at Gallagher, she'll answer!" I looked at him hopefully, thinking I finally got him.

"I'm sorry Miss Morgan but I'm not authorized to let you do that." Basically a repetition of exactly what he said before. I sighed.

"Well can you contact someone who is?" I practically snapped, acknowledging my temper rising from dealing with this man. For God sakes he was probably a robot.

"I'm sorry Miss Morgan but I was given orders to hold you here no matter what until further notice." The fact that the CIA had felt I needed more than just a locked door to keep be stable was flattering in itself, but Mr. Android really was a test of my abilities.

"Oh come on," I tried what I hoped was a winning smile; I think I want DNA tests to see if I'm truly related to my mother.

"You can make an exception," I even started batting my eyelashes and smacked him playfully on the chest. Whoa. Chest? I poked it again hung unflattering wide for another moment. It was rock-hard. _Literally_ it felt like steel. I started poking around in other spots, wondering if his chest and stomach could truly be titanium! Without thinking, I started trying to un-button his shirt (not really realizing what I was doing until it was too late) After fumbling with the buttons for a moment I practically ripped it off and he gasped.

"Miss!" he was trying to grab me, "Ms. Morgan, what are you doing?"

"Oh shush! I'm not undressing you for _that,_" I rolled my eyes at the possibility and began examining his chest.

Still rock-hard, so it wasn't some shirt infused with diamond braid nylon rope, a strong possibility at the CIA. Running my hands over his chest proved difficult, considering he was trying to stop this examination, but everywhere I touched I couldn't find any. I smacked one of his hands away and started for his pants, kneeling down to the floor. My hands reached to unbutton his pants and I froze. I was suddenly terribly aware that we were alone no more

"MISS MORGAN!" I turned around to see the Deputy Director of the CIA, Joe Solomon, Dr. Steve and what looked to be 2 other veteran agents I didn't recognize standing shocked in the doorway. I shot right up and looked back at Mr. Gates. My eyes went wide and my mouth tried to form words as I imagined what that must have looked like.

"I can explain!" I shrieked, just as the moment got worse than I thought it could.

"Hey here are the files you…" Massimo trailed off, apprehension replacing routine. He quietly stepped inside the tense atmosphere of the room and closed the door.

"Then start," said, no growled Mr. Solomon, taking a seat. The other agents soon followed. I started talking at 100 mph.

"Well I was talking to him-Mr. Gates- and I hit his chest…by accident, and it was hard, like _really hard_. I know this sounds weird but I mean I thought he might be a robot, cause' it felt like steel, so I started trying to take his shirt off to see if it was, or like a vest or something, but I couldn't find anything." pause, deep breath. I'm sure I sounded like an idiot so I just ploughed on anyways, "He was trying to stop me and I couldn't find anything," you already said that Dee Dee, "and then I started for his pants and that's when you came in…" I stopped and took some more deep breaths, looking all of them in the eyes so they knew I wasn't lying.

"Robert," said one of the agents I didn't know," is this true?"

Robert who was currently doing up the button on his pants and all the ones on his shirt nodded. I'm sure his wide-eyed terrified look mirrored mine.

"Well that explains a lot. Sorry for the… misunderstanding Ms. Morgan but no, Mr. Gates is _not _a robot." The Deputy Director, Michael Turner said, a slight smile curling at the edge of his lips.

"Oh," I mumbled and breathed a sigh of relief but kept the grimace sitting across the table from everybody. To say I was intimidated was the understatement of the century.

"You'll be able to see Ms. McHenry in a minute, we're almost done here. She's been debriefed already and once we give the signal Mr. Solomon will be taking you two back to the Academy. The media is already aware Macey attends the Gallagher Academy and has the grounds surrounded. I have a several agents heading over there right now to see if the situation is stable. If it is not we'll clear it out and have you stay here the night. How does the sound?" His finger was tapping on the cold steel and in the silence of the room the noise rung out loudly.

"Fine" I was still eyeing the random agents who seemed to be doing it right back. "I don't believe I was introduced to these two gentlemen," Madame Dabney would be proud of my language.

The first one stepped forward, the one who had addresses Robert earlier. He wasn't much taller than me, probably 5, 10'. Short black buzz cut and dull brown eyes, the first thing you noticed about him was his huge nose. It took up half his face but his glasses balancing on the top of it helped even everything out. He stuck out one short stocky arm and I shook his hand.

"Jonathan Miller, friends call me Johnny." suspiciously plain name, but he seemed friendly enough.

I smiled and looked to the other man. He was taller, and just the way he stood, all bad boy and good looks, made the girl in me stand a little straighter. Hestepped forward and gave me his hand, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Christian," he chuckled," Christian Goode."


	6. Chapter 6

I froze my expression in place. Instead of giving in to the stuttering and shock he was expecting, I tried to surprise him by coming off calm.

"Well that's just wonderful isn't it? Any relation to Zachary?" Christian didn't look surprised, not at all. In fact, I had a feeling that this reaction was exactly what he was waiting for.

"Of course," he replied, eyeing me once again,"2 years his senior. You couldn't imagine what it was like having that douche as a brother," I grinned in reply, immediately warming to him.

The more I looked at him really, the more I could see the resemblance. They had a completely different facial structure, but I could definitely see it in the colouring. The dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, tanned olive toned skin. And the swagger. Oh yes, the swagger. It was in everything he did, every move he made. He didn't just _sit _down, no, Christian Goode _lounged_. He didn't just walk, he_ strolled. _Everything he did seemed to be permeated by an everlasting self-confidence, that I could definitely relate to Zach.

"I couldn't possibly try," I murmured, sitting down in a chair beside him. "so you'll just have to tell me,"

He laughed and took the seat as everyone else but Massimo left the room. I felt comfortable in his presence, and immediately went back to staring at Christian. Did friends call him Chris? Did the brothers attend Blackthorne together? Bond over their parents…absence?

He wore a nice suit and some sort of dog tag that had writing I couldn't make out on it. He was fiddling with a ring and pretending not to look at me. I knew he was studying me and immediately grew self-conscious. Had Zach asked him to talk to me? To examine me, see if I was worthy of him? To get information out of me and when I question why he responds 'spy'? I internally sighed. _There were things we would never know-never hope to understand-and boys, I knew, were one of them._

"Another time," he murmured looking around the room and smirking briefly at Mass who glared in return. What was going on there? I calculated a second and realised they were the same age and probably went to Blackthorne together.

"Right now," he continued, "you have to see our dear boy Zachary," I bristled in response

"I do now?" I raised my eyebrows and put my hands on me hips and tried to look as intimidating as I could sitting down, all made up looking somewhat like a Barbie doll.

He merely rolled his eyes and said "Yeah, you do."

"And who says so?" I replied wiggling my eyebrows flirtatiously. If you had asked, I couldn't tell you where the flippant attitude had come from, but at the moment, I had much more concerning things on my mind.

"I do," he grinned as if he knew what I had been thinking. He probably did, he was Zach's brother. Zach's _older _brother, I reminded myself.

Without another word he grabbed my arm in a not-so-friendly way and pulled me towards the door. Massimo stepped in front of him and didn't say a word. He gave Christian a _look _and crossed his arms. Christian gave him a _look_ right back and it seemed they were having a silent conversation. One I, of course, wasn't a part of. I glowered at both of them and stomped my foot on the linoleum tile. They both turned toward me blinking.

_Great _I thought sarcastically _I'm not that unnoticeable am I? _

I looked pointedly at Christian and then at the door. He smiled and took my arm again as Massimo stepped out of the way. I gave him a reassuring smile as I left, hoping to silently soothe any worries he might have. There was more to this story, but I accepted that it was for later.

We stepped into the constant commotion of the hallway and I followed him down a route I'd never been before. Unsurprising, considering the fact that I'd only been here once and had been kind of distracted. Ahem, Josh.

"So," I started, wondering how covert any conversation could be surrounded by people who specialized in all things covert. "why is Zach here anyways?"

"All of the Blackthorne boys that were at the event are here. I know you saw them." He glanced at me apprehensively.

"I did actually," I confirmed, "yet that still doesn't explain why they're here. Or were there," I looked straight at him him and he smiled.

"Well I'm sorry Ms. Morgan but I can't tell you that," he replied.

I shrieked in frustration and threw my hands in the air, resisting the urge to whack him.

"What _can _you tell me?" I tried to tone my voice down a little. "And is that like the standard answer? That Robert guy said that half a dozen times, which is partially why I thought he was a robot."

He laughed at the memory and I tried, unsuccessfully, not to blush.

"Speaking of that," I stopped and grabbed his tie and put my face right in his, "you will never, _ever_, repeat that to anyone again. If I find out you did tell anyone there will be consequences." I didn't have trouble putting on a rude face, I wasn't in a great mood.

"Oh yeah," he cocked an eyebrow, "the little girl that's still in school is going to beat up the big bad CIA agent?" he accentuated this by patting me on the head. Damn, why was he so tall.

I gave him a sage look and smacked his hand away as we continued walking.

"No." I replied honestly, "But I have friends who will." I grinned, as a sudden image of Bex swatting a baseball bat against her hand filled my head.

Becoming frustrated with the company, I simply stopped, resolving to find my own way to Zach. Problem is I had no idea where I was going. Confusing much? Go straight—find long hallways with numerous others branching off. Go left- Visitors Area. Go Right- Development of Poisonous Gases. Looking over the Oxygen Masks Mandatory sign beside it, I sighed and took the left anyways. As I did, I glanced back to see Christian looking surprised at my discovery and reluctantly following. I rolled my eyes, seriously Visitors Area or Poisonous Gases. One of the harder questions my exceptional education had led me too.

Once I turned into the hallway everything seemed to go quiet. There were less people here, and everyone of them seemed to unanimously notice my presence. Feeling as if I had nothing to lose, I walked up to a seemingly innocent boy standing by the water cooler with a few friends.

"Hey, do you know where Zachary Goode is staying?" Wordlessly and with wide eyes he nodded. I waited a second. Then another.

"Well are you going to tell me or are you a mute?" I snapped. Did I mention my horrible mood earlier? Yeah well, one of my best friends was in the hospital after someone tried to kidnap her (kill her?) and I couldn't even visit. Besides, I missed dinner, can you blame me?

"Uh...room 117," His voice cracked as he spoke, out of fear or teenage-boyness I didn't know.

Christian appeared to be in a deep conversation with the administrator, and using this as a distraction, I slipped down the hall. Even in a room full of boys I was still the Chameleon.

When I got to his door I hesitated, holding a hand up. Finally I took a silent deep-breath and knocked on his door. I heard a dull shuffling of feet and Zach opened the door. I studied his face, his eyes particularly. They were bloodshot and had bags under them and he looked extremely confused and distressed.

"Hey. I met up with you're brother and he said I had to see you..." I trailed off unsure because really I had no clue why I was here.

He seemed to snap out of whatever state he had been in and enveloped me in a huge hug, dragging me into his room. If it wasn't for my shock I probably would have done something, I swear. He just held me there for a second before pulling back to look at me as if checking I was really there. Then I was in his arms again and this time he was kissing me. I had no clue why he was acting so weird but one thing he said was right. Josh could never give me a kiss like this. Only Zach could.

Only Zach.


	7. Chapter 7

My first ever kiss that lasted longer than 10 seconds was interrupted by the door banging open and hitting me. Before that I swear there wasn't just lip-to-lip action there was sucking and nibbling and licking for a beautiful 37 seconds. It was new and wonderful and ended in the worst way possible.

I hissed in pain and was smooshed in between Zach and the wall. He motioned for me to be quiet. I tried to fix my hair and wipe my lips silently.

"Zachary Goode!"

Oh my gosh. It just had to be Mr. Solomon. My eyes imitated CD's and even always cool Zach grimaced. He slipped out from behind the door, motioning discreetly for me to stay still.

"Do you mind? I mean if you wanted to talk, all you had to do was say so." I could see him smirking, "Shall we?" He gestured towards the door but was promptly blocked.

"What are you hiding? She's in here isn't she?" Mr. Solomon didn't sound angry, just curious.

Against all sense I kept telling myself they weren't talking about me. It was weird seeing Mr. Solomon out of school. Even if it was at the CIA, and he was the one training me to get here, he acted differently around others. At school, where anyone could see him, he had his rough exterior tough-love role.

**Joe Solomons Minimal Moods (Not necessarily in order of most common appearances)**

1)Disapproving/Disappointed

2)Serious

3)Amused (but more in a smug sucks-for-you way )

But in these past couple days it had been slipping. I'd seen him curious, worried, furious, and...well, tired. Trying to recall Liz's notes on the disruption of Operatives behaviour, I remembered there were few reasons. Operatives chose to either live their real persona when not in cover, or make a cover of there own. Solomon has a cover, and it takes a lot of stress to make a well seasoned pro crack, I concluded.

On a whim, I poked my head out from behind the door, to see Mr. Solomon and Zach staring back at me. I laughed nervously and stepped fully into the open. Zach shrugged, looking as unruffled as usual and Solomon was smirking. Without a word he turned around making a 'follow me' motion with his hand and walked out the door. I looked at Zach who looked as dumbfounded as me and quickly scurried after him, Zach in tow. We ended up in the same meeting room as before. Christian was back along with 'My Friends Call Me Johnny' and Dr. Steve.

"Ms. Morgan I'm afraid we have some bad news." I tried not to flinch but still did a little. No one seemed to notice. Did he really have to put it in those words? Did I have to hear them again? Taking a deep shaky breath I replied with a simple "What?" Head snapping from face to face.

"I assure you it's nothing too bad. We've just released a statement to the press stating that Ms. McHenry will be staying at a safe location as opposed to on school grounds. In reality we'll really just be taking an underground jet," Mr. Miller smiled reassuringly at the end, as if he knew why I'd flinched.

"Alright." I replied. Then I actually heard what he was saying, "Underground jet?" I squeaked.

"Its similar to a subway but much, much faster," said Christian, wait for it, smirking, "no need to be scared, child."

Everything after that happened really fast. Zach smacked him across the back of his head; Christian lunged for his brother, tackling him to the ground. Solomon jumped between the two trying to separate the suddenly testy boys. Jonathan Miller, looking utterly terrified, booked it to the opposite corner of the room. Dr. Steve's arm came flying out and pinned me against the wall, out of harms way.

As quickly as it started it was over. Solomon was a buffer between the two scowling brothers. Mr. Miller was back in his spot, dutifully standing beside Dr. Steve, prepared to take orders. The headmaster of Blackthorne removed his arm from my chest, allowing me to take a step forward and assess the damage. Zach was rubbing his chest but didn't seem to be fatally ill, neither did Christian. I glared at the older of the Goode siblings and took a step closer to Zach. He smiled down at me a little, but shook his head. Turning on his heel, he left the room without another word.

Massimo (always having great timing) walked in and kind of made a _tsk tsk _noise at Christian.

"Jeesh Chris, haven't grown up months after we graduated?" Now I definitely knew they went to school together.

Dr. Steve put a hand on Christians back, silently urging him out the door. Christian glared but retreated with the Headmaster, and I wondered about the boys connection.

"Mr. Ricci," Mr. Solomon started, but was interrupted by me giggling. No wonder Mass went by his first name, he rolled his eyes and continued "will take you to pick up Macey and take you back to the Academy. Mr. Miller, follow me," he said it as an order.

I promised myself that when... _if _I ever earned the amount of respect Mr. Solomon did, I wouldn't talk down to people like that. It was a matter of getting there though.

"_Were about to see Sublevel two,_" Macey whispered to me. I knew that we were somewhere in the bottom of Gallagher, but Sublevel 2? Early?

We got off at what looked like a mini train station and there were several more people waiting for us, adding to the already large group. Together with us there were 10 agents, Mr. Solomon, and a few officials.

Sure enough we were in Sublevel two and I tried not to gape at it. Because seriously it wasn't _that_ different. It looked bigger, and more high-tech, I'm sure the library had much more confidential books in it also. Overall it had the same steel, tile, scary cellar look going on.

I blinked back to reality when I was engulfed in my mothers warm, caring arms. She had tears in her eyes and I could recognize signs I would have never recognized before. She had a serious breakdown earlier but was well covered up. I admired her strength and for the millionth time wished I could live up to her.

We were led through the corridors silently and I was surprised to see a couple government agents in each hall. I realized it was 4:00 am and I was surprisingly tired. When we got to our room my mom kissed me goodnight and left with everyone else, but not before stationing another 2 agents on each side of our door.

When I walked into our room it was pitch black, so we tip-toed silently to our closets and changed into PJ's. When I turned to go to my bed my eyes had adjusted to the dark and I realized there was a giant lump of furniture in one corner and the rest of the floor was covered in mattresses.

"Didn't think you could just sneak in without us noticing could you?" Bex's harsh British accent cut through the air, familiar as home.

A light was flicked on and I realized the whole Junior class of 13 girls were sleeping squished on about 10 mattresses. Despite the close quarters Bex and Liz patted two spots between them in the middle of the blob. Macey and I picked our way over everyone and lied down. Right there all of my worries and suspicions disappeared from my mind. Because lying down in between my closest friends, my sisters, the people I loved, I felt safe, cared for, and protected. That night I fell asleep with a smile on my face.


	8. Chapter 8

When I woke up the next morning, I wished with all my being that things would slow down. They didn't.

The close sleeping quarters proved to be a problem. A fight that started between Kim and Mick somehow transferred to Eva and Anna, infuriating Bex and Tina, and before I was even fully awake, all the Gallagher Girls in our room were fighting.

With all the under-slept, under-fed, and over-trained girls in here it was no surprise things turned violent. In the midst of things, no one seemed to notice injured Macey getting caught in the middle of the fray, except for me, and unfortunately enough, her protectors.

The whole ordeal ended with a class trip to the infirmary, a heavily supervised class trip, where everyone but Macey was almost immediately checked and cleared to go.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to Macey as we stayed later, missing breakfast.

"For what." She said in a monotone. It didn't even come out as a question.

I shot her a look as the Doctor came back, listing her injuries to me for the first time.

I winced as he went down the list, each bullet my own personal blow. When the Doctor finally left I moved to help Macey down from the bed. She didn't let me.

We got dressed and went to breakfast together, yet I couldn't help but feel the urge to separate from Macey. With one glance at her you could tell she was different; cold, distant, hard.

The whole mansion was waking up and a buzz of motion could be heard all around. There was no doubt in my mind about what they were chatting about. It would be the main topic for a while, overruling the rumours Tina had already made up last night. She'd have to start all over.

With catch-ups during the summer, Macey was in mostly sophomore classes, she would have C&A with us as usual and would have to brave Dr. Fibs Junior Science class too. She'd be starting CoveOps this semester, which Mr. Solomon clearly said we could not rush. Macey would be caught up by the time senior year starts with a fast schedule, classes after school and summer studies. She mock-swooned at the notion of extra hours with Solomon, which made us all laugh.

COW (Countries of the World) was mainly focused on the dangerous creatures of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. In C&A we met up with Macey again who had her usual swagger on although I could tell she was annoyed by the stares and whispers. She didn't even bother to hide it and was sending looks of pure fury to anyone who met her eyes, which wasn't many people. The junior class smiled reassuringly when we came in. Bex had confessed she'd cried while beating the life out of the dummies in the gym. The sane girls cried together in our room for hours after they heard the news. I was so touched when they told me my own tears sprang to my eyes but didn't fall. Macey merely rolled her eyes and said "Come on, have you no faith? I mean its _me_." the duh tone is her voice made us smile.

I was trying to keep up with Bex who was eagerly sprinting down the hallway to CoveOps. The entrance to SublevelTtwo stood in front of us and for a second we just stared. Then realizing we were going to be late quickly stepped forward staring into the Armored Mans eyes as he scanned us. Rumour has it that if you aren't a Junior and get caught sneaking down the sword he was holding across his chest would swing out and stab you. But it was just a rumour, I think. The statue and the wall attached to it swung open to reveal an elevator. Bex and I exchanged nervous/excited looks. The whole way down we didn't make a sound. Maybe because we were nervous, maybe there was nothing to say, but a thick mist of tension and apprehension hung between us.

The doors opened.

Although Macey and I had been here last night, that didn't really count as seeing Sublevel Two for several reasons and I didn't want to crush Bex's heart if she knew I was here before her. A) I was tired, not blurry-eyed tired, but tired enough to not completely focus B) We were in a different part of the level, C) I was being escorted through the halls, now we were free to roam.

Easily finding the classroom we slipped into desks side-by-side noticing how empty the room was. It was just the 7 of us now. Courtney Bauer had seen the Blackthorne boys as part of a chance at a future. She always thought she would be alone in the spy world, no matter what. The boys held significance to her and she thought she could only be with them if she was on the Research and Operations track of studies. Whatever. Mr. Solomon wasn't here when the clock in our heads struck 10:15. He rushed in exactly a minute later threw his jacket down but remained standing, as usual.

I'm not sure, but I think there's more to Mr. Solomon's odd habit of standing than just being prepared. I think Mr. Solomon is a restless man, always running through life, never able to stop.

"Ladies, I hope you had a restful break. All of you have one of the longest semesters of you're life ahead of you,"

"Interrogation Tactics," he started," are the main focus of you're first semester. We'll be starting right off the bat—no lessons. Lets see what you got, and who was studying over the summer."

I swallowed at that, because although I knew this was the normal course for Junior year, we'd eventually go up against the TruthMaster 3000. Today though, I could see Mr. Solomon emptying out some sodium pentothal from the cabinets, and the door to the adjoining room was open. There was a stainless steel desk, chair and a lamp. Although the lamp wasn't swinging _exactly _like in the movies, I'd bet anything Solomon did this so that when we were sitting there, tied up against the chair, our nerves would be wracking around our brains at insane speeds.

I had a feeling this day wasn't just going to be fast, it was going to be hard.

"Alphabetical Order" he commanded.

I saw Bex grin, more eager than nervous to be second.

I thought of everything my parents had told me about interrogation counter-tactics. Be prepared; know what they're going to ask you, know how you're going to answer. Profile your interrogator; know what your up against, look for loopholes. My mother stressed to speak as little as possible. My father however, stressed that there was one key way to get through an interrogation okay. My dad, in all his wisdom, had said to me in that stern voice of his, "Don't over think it, Cams. Keep your cool, don't get tense. Relax, you're a natural."

"While I'm interrogating you're classmates, the rest of you will be interrogating each other, partner up."

I automatically looked to Bex who was looking back, a little too anxiously for my taste.

"_Relax, you're a natural." _I reminded myself.

Whilst Eva was led into the adjoining room, my best friend sat down across from me. Spinning the chair around, she sat on it backwards, resting her elbows on the backrest. She grinned, her whole upper body leaning threateningly towards me.

She was tough, I thought to myself, running things over. Would she go for a straight on approach? Or purposefully try to throw me for a loop by being manipulative? Well you grew up with the manipulator of mani—no!

"_Don't over think it." _I repeated in my head.

Bex cracked her knuckles and smiled wickedly at me.

"Oh, and ladies?" Joe Solomon called back to us from his paused position in the doorway. His hand twisted the doorknob as a smile twisted his lips. "No torture."

_This should be fun…_


	9. Chapter 9

You know when someone tells you unexpected news, the bad kind? People get that shocked expression, but it's mixed with a sense of doom. The general population imagines sad as crying, heart wrenching expressions that make your own chest heavy just looking at them. Not me. I picture cold empty expressions, straight postures, and arched noses. The image portrays cool indifference to the outside world, but if you're on the inside it's a completely different story. The blankness in their eyes, no release, no emotion, its only cover. Now that's what scares me, that's what breaks my heart, I had too much familiarity with it for someone of my age. Having seen it on friends, family, and sometimes in the mirror—it's the spy way to mourn.

That was why when each and every girl came out of Mr. Solomon's side room looking like that I forgot about the chemicals they were on and freaked, demanding what had happened, what was wrong.

They just looked at me and than it clicked and I breathed again, no one had an animal die, a friend with a disease, a family member dead—or missing.

When I heard the sound of the door opening my gaze stayed fixated on the board and my body was still but my mind was reeling. Keep my pulse steady, don't let my eyes dilate, no atypical mannerisms; I repeated it over and over to myself like a mantra. _Keep my pulse steady, don't let my eyes dilate, no atypical mannerisms, Keep my pulse steady, don't let my eyes dilate, no atypical mannerisms, Keep my pulse steady, don't let my eyes dilate, no atypical mannerisms._ I repeated it in my head to the point where I was so concentrated I actually began to feel lightheaded. The sound of my name being called broke through the haze and my head snapped up so fast I felt something crack.

Then I realized no one was calling me and it was just the buzzer for a Code Black. Relief flooded through me as the facts were set straight. I didn't have to be interrogated. I wouldn't possibly fail this test and ruin my future career. The Code Black was at least delaying things for a while.

Whoa, backtrack, Code Black?

Tuning into reality orders were being shouted, audible panic ensuing, and I realized I was just sitting there. Not ordering, not supervising, not even helping the situation as I sat there. If there was an award for the worst Headmistresses daughter at spy school it would definitely go to me. Not that there is. Because this is the only spy school with a Headmistress, Blackthorne was the only other one and they had a Headmaster.

_Well the only other spy school we know of, _I thought with a hint of irritation.

"Due to the fact that there is very valuable information down here there is no access to the upstairs as of 30 seconds. We will not try and rush up there like fools ladies, instead we will convene in the common room down here. And when I say that, _everyone_, will come with. Everyone." He repeated the last word for emphasis and I suddenly wondered who else was down here with us.

Twenty-two minutes and thirty-seven seconds later I knew what Mr. Solomon meant by everyone.

There were lab technicians, numerous men from the maintenance department, and actual groups of agents from several different firms here on what they said were 'confidential matters'.

All of this new information was enough to leave the whole class standing there catching flies. Well figuratively, there weren't any flies around here; it was much too sanitary for that.

The questions pounded between the two sides of my brain like a game of ping-pong. First of all, why was there a Code Black? Was someone trying to infiltrate the school? Was it fake like the one from last semester? _Was _the one from last semester fake? Or real?

We were being separated into groups by some order I couldn't figure out. I was grateful that Bex and Tina were in my line, but the other men and women I didn't recognize. All I could tell you is that they looked like super-sized deadly killing machines. Field agents.

My list continued; does this Code Black have anything to do with last nights events? What did happen last night anyways? Did they want just Macey or me too? Who were they? Why would they want Macey or I? Why were there Blackthorne boys at the National Democratic Convention?

My head hurts.

Surveying the new arrivals, BMBS (Big Men in Black Suits), that appeared to be helping organize. They were obviously the Secret Service and I was pretty freaking sure at this point that they had never heard about us until now. Judging by the confused looks on some of their faces a few of them still hadn't figured it out.

It was oddly quiet for a procedure of its kind. There was no sound of windows shutting or air vents being covered because we were underground.

The thought that was so obvious but had never came to the front of my mind finally emerged and hit me like a ton of bricks.

_Were there any secret passageways in the Sub Levels?_

_No… no I would have found them. But what if there were entrances down here and the exits were up top? _

That was entirely possible because I rarely ever found a secret passageway exit, just entrances…

Even though Bex's accent was rough and scary at times, to me it was comforting. "How long have these twits been organizing this? I mean its not that hard, silly bunch of prats." I giggled but shushed her anyways.

"Do you want to get in trouble? Besides, I'd watch how loud you say that, some of these people could be you're future co-workers." Her face paled, her posture straightened, and the annoyed scowl was replaced by a coy smile.

The room had gone quiet now, but then Mr. Solomon approached us, or more appropriately Bex and I. The other men and women gave nods of respect and Tina just licked her lips and stared at his exposed biceps.

"Hello ladies, I'm going to have to ask you to cooperate with us as best as you can," brows furrowed, lips tilted down, and then he pulled two needles out of his pocket. "So just relax and trust me," well how could you not trust that smile? It was one I hadn't seen before, but it clearly said _WARNING, WARNING, I AM BAD AND WANT TO CONVINCE YOU I'M NOT. _

Darting away from him I felt the subtle prick in my neck and knew I was a goner.

_What the…_


	10. Chapter 10

_Lubb Lubb; Lubb Lubb; Lubb Lubb. _

The sound of my own heart beating in quick steady thumps was oddly calming in the quiet room. I sat still as I was trained and let my body and mind adjust. When captured by the enemy, Mr. Solomons voice rung in my ears, the first thing you do is try to get as much information about what's going on without them finding out. What had he said next...

Bex has mockingly replied, "Oh, so you've had experience being captured?" she was unimpressed but pleased by the notion. Most of the class laughed, but I couldn't. Not when he stared me down as he said "It happens to the best. Some get out, some don't."

Class had ended after that, and we moved onto a different topic the next day.

_Damn it._

My body gave an involuntary jerk of irritation and I heard a few people shuffle before one stood up.

"Good you're up," it wasn't that the voice was cold, or unfamiliar, or had a foreign bad-guy accident that made my jaw drop. "you were really worrying us honey, I guess with Bex's bigger build the medicine would have lasted longer but 45 minutes!"

My eyelids fluttered open and I sat up and stared into the perfect face that matched the voice. My mothers concerned and relieved expression confused me even more, if Mr. Solomon wasn't a double, then why'd he knock me out?

"Are you calling me fat?" Bex teased from her spot against the bookcase. Her tone was playful but she too looked worried for my well-being.

"We didn't want you're classmates getting confused or feeling left out so we pretended you were in trouble to get you guys up here without rising suspicion." Joe Solomon himself explained as if he were reading my mind. With a greater knowledge of today's technology than most, I knew that the possibility could already be in use.

I slid down on the couch, Bex joining me, and Liz who I hadn't noticed was there before plopped in the middle, separating us. We giggled.

My mom started talking before he could continue, "Girls, I know that you're all a little confused, and uninformed. But I'm sure Cam will fill you in on everything she knows later, that's all you need to know. All I can really tell you is that you'll be protecting Macey on and off through the next few weeks." She paused and made sure, with her expressive eyes, that we knew she was serious. _"She's the daughter of very powerful people with very powerful enemies."_

And that was how the three of us became Macey's private security team.

On our way to our room I finally passed a window for the first time and inhaled a sharp breath.

There were swarms of photographers and newscasters outside the gates and surrounding the walls. They were buzzing around constantly moving trying to get a peek by desperately scaling the ivory covered walls. There was so much security out there I doubted a mosquito could get through unnoticed. Well now that I think of it, a mosquito couldn't get through unnoticed even on a regular day because they were commonly used to disguise bugs.

Packing a duffel I couldn't help a little hysterical giggle. Bex cocked an eyebrow at me in that cool way I can only do when not trying.

I tried to explain, gesturing around us. "I'm, we're, packing our first ever emergency back-up bags. Our first real mission, even if we are only being used toback-up to the Secret Service."

The bags were for if we ever had to head out on short-notice. An operative is informed when (s)he might be sent on a mission in the near future so that they can prepare properly.

"You know it always amuses me to see the rivalry between the seperate branches of the Alphabet. Like say, International Police-"

Bex and I cut her off in sync, "Interpol" we corrected. Liz was the only person I knew who had a tendency to call the agencies by there full names.

"Whatever. _Interpol _workers commonly fight with CIA agents. Usually verbal but the tension is practically visible, even though we're all fighting for the same cause." she tsk-tsk'ed quietly and even used the hand motions, muttering to herself that there had to be a reason, but further research would be needed.

**Operation Baby Girl. **

**Operatives: Cameron Morgan, Rebecca Baxter, and Elizabeth Sutton (hereafter referred to as "The Operatives")**

**The Operatives finished preparing a supply of emergency packages ensuring a quick depart if the time came. All the required supplies were packed including:**

**- A large amount of clothing that could be used for any situation in the life of Socialite/Operative McHenry.**

**-Emergency pouche of food incase confronted with captivity.**

**-The standard amount (Okay, maybe a **_**little **_**more, but only a few extra things. Better to be safe than sorry!) of defensive and offensive weapons and gadgets. **

**On Saturday, September the 13th the Operatives would follow 'Peacock' along to a press conference in Philidalphia in which her father was attending. The Operatives would pose as long-time friends and maintain a cover unless otherwise ordered. (Basically if the Secret Service messed up or put Macey in danger. Those men sure arent't CIA)**

Smiling I closed the report book, I was getting the hang of these thingies.

Skipping off to lunch with my best friends a calm serenity spread throughout me. But when I looked at them they all looked thoughtful and worried.

"How hard can this be guys? Macey's dad's stupid political enemies were being buttheads, but now that we're prepared they won't be able to get through. Once the elections over, everything will be great again...right?" Although my thoughts were naiive, I wanted someone to lie to me. I needed someone to lie to me, to reassure me that everything would be alright-even if it wouldn't.

No one answered.

We paused in front of the doors to the Dining Hall. Finally, Bex spoke up. "_You're a spy, Cam. Don't you know that nothing is ever as it seems?" _it was one of those rare serious-Bex moments. "We're not playing around anymore, no one is there to pick us up off our asses when we fail. Its time to go into the real world, the real life, the real game." With that, she opened up the doors and glided to our seats with everyone else, leaving me standing there scowling.

_Thanks so much BFF. _I thought sarcastically.


	11. Chapter 11

There was something about looking out of a jet window, down to the miles and miles of green and brown fields, or the bright lights of a city. It made me feel very small, in this big world filled with crime, business, families, war—I was just a small part. It gave me a sense of simplicity, that all of these peoples lives were carrying on, unaware of the plane thousands of feet above them, unaware of the stories of its occupants. We were just small influences in the bustling world, no matter how much me tried; power would be distributed equally, and all we could do is try to help in our own small way.

The rest of the week had passed very quickly and in between our challenging classes or homework, we would plan. Apparently I didn't need to pack anything but emergency supplies, I wasn't allowed any clothing or top secret homework either. We got excused from our weekend assignments which were celebrated via high-fives. Well, not Liz. Apparently she had been looking forward to her science homework and is still pouting.

We arrived at half past 5, which required leaving right after school. I had been to Philadelphia before, and although it was a beautiful interesting city, I found that a great majority of the people had the personality of a dry wall. Shouldn't be too hard to blend into, it didn't involve us doing anything per se, more of just NOT doing certain things that would be considered unique, or odd.

Bouncing into our suite, yes, SUITE, we followed procedure searches for anything that could be threatening. After that we conducted a search of our own 16-year-old-girl style.

Sufficient amount of bathrooms and bedrooms? Check.

Hefty supply of hair products and makeup? Check.

Closets stocked with the latest trends only the elite wore? Check.

Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia, Mint Chocolate Chip, and Blueberry Cheesecake ice cream? Uh-Oh. We would have to fix that ASAP.

Shortly after, Macey arrived with her harem of agents to pick out our outfits for dinner and assign us our 'looks'. Since we were posing as one of Macey's inner circle we had to dress like them, talk like them, act like them down to the smallest detail. Of course we already knew this, it was common procedure for any cover.

She began with the strictness of a school teachers, "Always hold you're chin high and nose up. This shows pride, but be careful you don't tilt it too high and look like an idiot, or worse, a snob. Together and alone, we are snobby, spoiled, rich, b**chy, selective, and completely self-absorbed. EVERYTHING is about image, whether its real or not. Each one of you will have to pick a unique persona that portrays awesomeness in every pore of you're body. Its fitting in, while standing out. Sure you love to shop like everyone else, but you love to shop for, leather, or dresses, or shoes, etc. Each person had there own unique trait that their famous for, find one and stick with it. Me? I'm the rebel, well I used to be. I still have all my old friends but any time I'm attending a formal event, I'm a complete goody girl. If all goes well tonight, then we'll continue on like this. If it doesn't, then you guys are getting make-over's and going full-blown undercover." As she talked she paced back in forth in front of our chairs, once in a while glancing up to the stylists busy hands. "So what can you say girlies, are you up to it?" My grin was identical to Bex'es, unlike Liz we had been waiting for this night our whole lives, preparing, studying, training, it all came down to this. "Tonight, all you have to do is fit in, and appear like a normal spoiled teenage girl."

I could do this.

Bex has apparently chosen 'edgy' and decided that she would have enough belts to wrap around the world. They were the perfect choice for her in my opinion, anything near her face would mess up her great proportions and her great legs couldn't be covered. She had on a deep purple frock, belted at the waist (snakeskin), and black patent pumps.

Liz had gone a different route and instead of accentuating her great attributes she said she would play up the bad ones to make the look better. She was in a white fitted mini-dress and Greek sandals that had strings wrapping all the way up to her knees, the centerpiece of the outfit.

Meanwhile, I was struggling with the skirt Macey had left out for me. The top was no problem, it was a plain white blouse with ruffles down the front. The skirt on the other hand, really had me perplexed. It was a heck of a time getting past my hips and when it was there it looked stretched and bad with the shirt. It was blue silk that puffed out slightly and came to my knees. With the suede boots it made my legs look tiny and the whole outfit seemed off.

"Mace?" I called, trying not to let my voice crack.

She walked into the door and started complaining right away, "First of all, never call me Mace again, its only Macey from now on. Second of all, never call me in general, always come find me in case I'm busy, which I was, so that you don't interrupt anything. Third of all why did you call me—" she cut herself off with a gasp and seemed to finally look at me. Not just a mean once-over but two times she looked up and down me with disgust.

" What ARE you wearing?"

" _That _is why I called you here, I look retarded! Did you get me the wrong size or something?"

After a few more glances she started giggling, putting her hand to her mouth in a sad effort to compose the expression.

"I didn't get you the wrong size Cam, you're wearing it wrong." Walking over to me she took the edge of the skirt and yanked it up about 4 inches, settling it just under my ribs.

"What the… why would I wear it all the way up here?"

"It's a high waisted skirt honey. Its supposed to be like that, it's the style. I thought even someone as un-experienced as you would have found that out," she emphasized the pitying notion by patting be on the shoulder with mock-sincerity.

I looked in the full-length mirror and was surprised at what the subtle difference made. I personally thought the make-up looked like I had just smudged my eyes and my hair was not supposed to stand that way gravitationally, but overall I looked like one of Maceys friends. It gave me a boost of confidence any girl could use and I walked beside my other two friends with my head held high like I belonged here.

I could do this.

In the elevator the three of us just talked politely, because of the cameras, and waited till we got to the ground floor so we could split up and turn our comms on. But we couldn't, because the elevator stopped at floor 7 too and 6 drunken guys, probably around 21, stumbled in.

One of them looked me up and down a few times, it was the same thing Macey had done but it was so, so, so much more disgusting. I noticed the other guys looking similarly at my friends and I tensed up.

The one closest to me spoke up, "Damn girl, its clear that anyone dressed like that doesn't want to spend the night alone, so hows about me and you do it like they do on discovery channel!" At least that's what I _think_ he said, because his words were so slurred together and raised and dropped in pitch at random points.

His friends laughed, "Yeah! Have y'all ever been in a threesome? Cause you know we can arrange that to and turn this machine around back to our rooms." I had a brief mental image of what I _thought _that would look like and shuddered,

"Get ready," Bex whispered, "'cause this is how the rest of the nights going to be."

I could NOT do this.


	12. Chapter 12

We were greeted by several black suits as the doors opened, and for once I couldn't be more grateful for there presence. Instead of feeling the urge to ditch them, we clung together between there protective barriers and waltzed towards the entrance.

When the man at the door asked for our names we hesitated. With all of the preparation of learning how to dole out fake-Id's and lying our faces off, with names to match our in depth cover stories, it was harder than I thought to say, "Cammie. Cammie Morgan." Bex and Liz gave there names as well, but now Bex was pouting too.

"We're moving," one of the men whispered into the microphone attached to his collar, with the real life clear bouncy string winding up into his ear.

I used a technique he taught me himself, and looked around viewing the millions of red, white, and blue balloons, thousands of civilians ranging from students to senior citizens, and most importantly the men and women patrolling the event. Up and down the walls they lined, at every exit or entrance, walking in between the chairs set up, checking the mic's for the conference; still no Zach.

But we were already walking through the back, past the bomb-sniffing dogs and metal detectors into the large dining hall that held an elegance that rivaled our own back home.

**Op BG Part l. Le Pomme de couchon. **

**The Operatives took there seats and counted that there would be another 30 select guests. Operative Morgan was closest to Peacock who was sitting beside her "boyfriend".**

**After all the invitees had been escorted to there seats Operative Baxter estimated that 12 dinner guests had a high possibility of concealing weapons. 5 of these Subjects appeared suspicious (or is that just how politicians look?) and could possibly be a POI.**

The security was outrageous and all of the eyes and ears (human or machine) watching, listening, recording, was driving me insane. I felt so seen I would blush slightly anytime I made eye-contact.

The three boys beside Aiden were grinning and kept sneaking glances over at us. I think I'm the only one who noticed because Liz was staring queerly at the pig with her head cocked and Bex was intently watching a man across from her.

I tuned into Maceys conversation with a man across from her as the appetizers were served.

"_Someone grew up._" The man proclaimed, " The last time I saw you you're hair was still blonde and you played with Barbies! Then you're mom and pops' sent you off to the Alder, and I haven't seen you since! Look at you, a young woman, in a dress and heels, on the arm of a boy no less! You're parents must be so proud."

Smiling I plucked some foie gras off the table and delicately nibbled on the edge. I'd never been a fan of Goose Liver, but it was alright.

When the main course was served, Bex rudely took a bite of her pork while the waiters were still coming.

I was still paying attention to Macey's every move so I barely saw it from the corner of my eye.

I cut her a look, _Not until every one is served yet._

Scowling she put the fork down and sent one back, _Okay Mom._

But then it changed, she stiffened and seemed to turn the food around in her mouth for a second. Her eyes went wide and she quickly spit it out in her napkin.

_It had something in it,_ she mouthed.

So I did the first think that came to mind.

Shooting to my feet so fast I knocked the chair over and drew attention "A mouse!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs.

BPOV (Bex)

Shrieks identical to Cammie's erupted around the room and everyone jumped up and away from where her finger was pointing, I swear one girl even fainted.

Meanwhile, even without swallowing that little bite my head began to hurt. I had no idea what chemical was in there, it was nothing I'd ever seen before.

All of the sudden the waves on Macey's dress were swaying back and forth, an ocean with large sharks jumping out snapping there teeth. The strings on Liz's sandals were curling way past her knees, wrapping around her body, retaining vines squeezing the life out of her stretching for other people trying to get them too. The snakeskin belt I had been wearing was now a real black, deadly snake. It curled around my stomach, a constricting boa and hissed up at me, bearing its fangs.

I screamed and screamed but they wouldn't go away, my legs swayed and I accidentally knocked over one of the ornamental candles setting the table and everything on it alight.

The last thing I remember was seeing Cammie's wide eyes approaching me, a wicked smile in place as her hands, no claws, tried to keep me upright. Something large and male tossed me over their shoulder.

Then I began to feel lightheaded, everything was slowly going out of focus. I let my eyes close and succumbed willingly to an unconscious state.

CPOV

Instead of following the masses of people into the sitting room I followed Bex, who rested securely on Grants shoulder. Yes. Grant.

Liz had stayed behind with Macey and I kept glancing over my shoulder to assure them we would be fine.

Still unbelieving I followed Grant up a service elevator towards an unknown destination.

Why did I feel so nervous? Because I was with Grant, and that sums it up all together.

First of all he was a guy. A hot guy. Scratch that, a really hot, scorchingly sexy, beyond any girls wildest dreams, attractive guy.

Second of all, he was a Blackthorne Boy. And although the whole last semester was supposed to get us to know each other and bond, trust, blah blah, I was a little busy with another Blackthorne Boy to really notice all the rest. Concluding that I was taking a whim, not a smart think to do on spy terms, and giving him the benefit of the doubt. I mean he was Zach's best friend. And I trusted Zach. Enough.

Speaking of… he should be around here somewhere.

We walked down another hall, and Grant stopped at a door and gently handed Bex to me.

We hadn't said a word the whole time, but silent communication did us just as well.

He would go in, and check everything out, before I would enter.

He made a knocking mechanism, with a certain rhythm, old fashioned but effective.

He walked in and left the door open, after checking the hall and the first two rooms branching off he signaled me inside and nodded his head toward the kitchen.

I ducked inside, silent even with the extra weight, and laid Bex on the table.

Then I heard the giggling.


	13. Chapter 13

CPOV

"Stop it!" it was a female voice, high pitched and slightly slurred.

"You don't want me to stop," this voice was lower, male. But it was even lower than it usually was, because I recognized it.

Then there was the distinctive sound of two people lip-locking and a sense of dread spread through me.

Just as quiet as ever I walked to the other side of the kitchen, the one with the window I had not noticed before. It had stools on the other side, a buffet area to serve from the kitchen to the living room.

The living room where Zach and a beautiful red-head were smooching. She was dressed in evening wear, and I realized with a jolt that she had been at dinner but disappeared after the appetizers.

She was still wearing the emerald silk dress that hugged her body and accentuated her flawless face. I remember envying her lack of makeup, the natural beauty. The contrast of her auburn hair on the green was amazing, and her eyes were light green, almost yellow in the light. Cat eyes.

She matched Macey's beauty, my mothers, hell she might even have surpassed it.

Grant walked into the living room, rolled his eyes at the two of them and continued his check. Giving me a thumbs up he gently nudged them on the shoulder. They broke apart and looked at him annoyed.

"There better be a good reason for this interruption." He practically growled. With them broke apart I had a clearer view and could definitely see one hand sliding up her dress and the other going down. Hers were pressed under jacket and playing with the first button of his shirt.

Unable to look anymore I went back to Bex and started procedure First Aid.

"Sorry, but we've got a, er, problem. Not everything worked downstairs properly." Nice way to put it Grant.

A female sigh, "I knew they couldn't move on without my presence yet I selfishly left anyways, my apologies. I guess Ill be going now." Yeah, I guess you will.

"Nonsense, I'm sure Philly here can take care of it." I'd heard the cool tone in his face, what was it the lady-luring one?

"I'm sorry _Eddie _but this really is an emergency, we're needed."

"What kind of emergency requires engineers?"

"That's private. Ed?"

"Yeah, yeah. Come on Brooke, I'll at least walk you to you're suite, perhaps we'll see each other sometime in the near future?"

"Perhaps." She said nonchalantly, I SO wish I could be that way with guys, cool, controlled, collected.

They walk out the door not even glancing my way as they go and I remind myself we were never really dating as if that would make me feel better.

I hear Grants footsteps cross the threshold and compose my features. "Do you have a first aid kit anywhere?" since I cant seem to make my voice happy I'm at least pleased its even and normal.

"First Aid won't do anything for what she's got."

"You know what she ate?" I said eagerly.

"Yep, rare and new, those damn Chinese again. Luckily, I also know what she needs."

Macey said that no boy can ever have good looks and a good personality. This is why I'm slightly wary of his kindness, smarts, and smile.

He disappeared through another door, most likely the bedroom. I don't ask how he knows this, I don't ask why he's even here as Phil the engineer; I know I wont get an answer.

On his orders I pull her into a sitting position so he can make her swallow a tiny white pill. It doesn't go down at first so we have to pour water in her mouth until she's almost drowning and is forced to swallow.

"I'm trusting you here, don't let me down. She's my best friend not to mention co-worker Grant. Umm… Phil?" my voice is slightly shaky, but I'm not ashamed. For some reason I feel comfortable with Grant, he doesn't have as much as an imposing presence as Zach.

"Grant, please. I know how close she is to you, this pill will counter the drugs and in about 15 minutes she'll be vomiting it all up." He smiled at that but I made a face. We switched positions and I went to collect bowls, basins, vases anything to keep it in. I also picked up some towels and a wet face cloth.

Setting everything up we sat in silence for a good five minutes.

"God, what's taking so long?" he muttered to himself.

For a second I was confused because he said about 15 minutes and it had only been 5 and 37 seconds.

Then it hit me, he was talking about Zach.

I was kind of glad he brought it up, even it was an uncomfortable subject.

"Yeah… that happen a lot?" I winced.

He laughs, "That's an understatement, I can't remember once where he hasn't! It can be annoying and get in the way but you get used to it. And even when we're busy he finds a way to get something out of it. Know what I mean?" Zach obviously hadn't told Grant about our…involvement.

"No, not really." I said honestly.

"Right… I guess you girls aren't like that, all about true love and all that jazz." Now there's the Grant I expected.

"Do you mind if I make a phone call?" I said politely.

He nodded and I headed over to the hotel phone, first disassembling it and doing a standard bug check before calling our room.

"Hello?" Like I expected Liz picked up, sounding nervous.

"Hey hun!" I exclaimed, "I've got everything under control over here, you know me! How'd everything go back there?" I did my best job imitating that Brooke girls voice, down to the confidence and easy flow of her words.

"Oh that's good, everything went fine back there. When can I see you? I'm just dying waiting."

For someone not in CoveOps Liz did a pretty dang good job. "I'll have things wrapped up in probably 20 minutes, 30 tops! If anything changes I'll give you a ring, ciao sweetie!" I added the valley girl, every-sentence-ends-like-a-question tone randomly hoping it sounded fine.

"Peace girl." I smiled, nice one Liz!

Nothing had changed with Bex and I sighed realizing there was going to be another 5 minutes of awkwardness to handle.

"Nice convo," he joked when I sat down.

A few minutes later I hear a different knocking beat, and then footsteps.

"Grant?" Zach called

"In here!" He shouted back.

"Here, I'll take the," I said motioning to Bex, "you go I'll be fine."

"Hey man! You get some?" I heard high-fiving.

Oh dear God.

"Not as much as I would have liked." Zachary Goode replied. "No thanks to you," he added.

"Yeah, total chaos at the dinner. You sure chose a good time to sit out, there was poison and fire, and a supposed mouse." He laughed and I heard the two sets of footsteps approaching.

I angled my body away from the door and kept my eyes trained on her face.

The footsteps came closer when all of the sudden I heard one stop and the other continue.

"Cammie?" he sounded incredulous.

My eyes flickered to him as Grant sat down, "Hey," I said briefly before looking down to Bex.

He grabbed a pop from the fridge and joined us, "So, how long you been here?" His casual tone didn't match his strained jaw or tight hold on the soda.

"Long enough." I replied," If you weren't so busy I'm sure you might have noticed."

The third wheel looked back and forth between us furrowing his brows.

"Excuse me. I need to check something, you'll me fine?" Grant nodded and took my place.

Finding a balcony, I stepped out and tried to enjoy the fresh air. Although polluted and full of smog, it was much more breathable then the tension in the kitchen.

Just as I predicted, Zach followed and stood a few feet away from me. We looked out at the busy streets, setting sun, and didn't say a word.

I turned towards him and sighed, "What's you're excuse?" he looked at me oddly so I continued, "In the movies, when this happens there's some fabulous back up story. Those were normal people, we're spies, so I'm waiting; impress me."

"Well going with theatre…" he trailed off and slammed his lips to mine.

_The first thing that hit me was the shock. The second…was the anger._

I shoved him away from me in disgust. "How dare you! I may not get noticed by many guys Zach, but I won't let the ones that do use me! Whatever we had, if anything is over okay? Don't talk to me if you don't have to. And I'm warning all my friends about this, I cant believe you!" I was practically spitting in his face by the end of it.

Spinning on my heel I stalked back inside and even added a door slam to the dramatic exit.


	14. Chapter 14

SOON TO BE CHAPTER 14--READ CHAPTER 18 FOR EXPLANATION


	15. Chapter 15

SOON TO BE CHAPTER 15--READ CHAPTER 18 FOR EXPLANATION


	16. Chapter 16

SOON TO BE CHAPTER 16--READ CHAPTER 18 FOR EXPLANATION


	17. Chapter 17

SOON TO BE CHAPTER 17--READ CHAPTER 18 FOR EXPLANATION


	18. Chapter 18

SOON TO BE CHAPTER 18

All of this will be posted under a new update, chapter 19, but for now, rests in the old chapters place.

Erm, hi? Tehe.

SO, I never planned to do this, and I'm still reluctant as I type this, but its not going to cause any harm, so whatever. ANYWAYS. News. If you didnt notice the summary, Im re-vamping this. Fixing it, making it better, adding improvements, whateveryouwannacallit. I didnt even have a beta when I posted it for the first time, now I do. And my writing? SO much better, if I say so myself. I had no idea how crap my English education was, how RUINED my French immersion made it, but alas, its improving, and it is mediocre. Not medioquer Mayson. SEE, what I mean?

So, dear readers, this is my announcement, to let you know, that after that long paragraph, I actually have something to say. I am re-starting the story. And along with re-doing the old chapters, Im adding new ones as well, and, finishing it. In my new format, this story went from 18 chapters, to 13. Well, 19 chapters with this. So when you get the alert, after this one, saying that Chapter 20 is posted, you will actually have to go back to chapter 14 and read from there. Which you'll probably forget, so Ill remind you. And Ill also give you a summary of the story thus far. Since its been lightyears since I updated. But yeah, there will be 7 new chapters when you this fully comes back. SEVEN. :)

I just thought that you guys deserved to know, since its kinda been just there for a while now. The thing that really encouraged me to do this was all the recent reviews and alerts. All the new readers who come to fanfiction, and like I did when I first got here, read pages back to the ancient chapters :P Although, when I started, there were like 3 pages, not 30 :P. Thats also why Im restarting this, because the sudden influx of readers after the release of GG3, I totally wanna get back into the writing world of fanfiction again-not just the reading.

Anyways, since most people are probably ADD like me, and cant stand reading everything, basic summary is,

**STORY IS BEING RESTARTED. READ ALL FUTURE AN'S FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS. POSTS ARE COMING!**

**The title is new, the summary is new, the chapters will be new (and the old ones better) so I hope SOME of you are as excited as I am to...start new. :)**

**-Mayson**

UPDATE: As of July 19, 2010 the story is about 50% complete and ready for reposting.


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